


Poison (I)

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: This is the Soundtrack of Our Life [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alice Cooper - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Slight hints at season 4, Song Fic Challenge, That Damn Radio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lead me not into temptation, for I find enough on my own. And when late 80's glam metal takes you by the collar and leads you on your way, who are you to resist its pull...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison (I)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [no+name+please](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=no%2Bname%2Bplease).



> Another song fic challenge for a song I'm vaguely familiar with. I had fun with it though. Hopefully it lives up to expectations. :-)
> 
> Song: Poison  
> Artist: Alice Cooper

If someone were to tell Derek that he were a stalker, he'd likely have a hard time denying the allegation. His reluctant pack mate Scott had come with an extra piece of baggage in human form. One Stiles Stilinski. He was always getting in the way, tripping over himself, and coming up with the worst ideas that usually ended with Derek shirtless. Like...a lot. If he didn't know better, he'd swear it was intentional.

And yet, he always went along with the stinking human's plan. He'd have to grudgingly admit they did tend to work. There was something in the way that Stiles spoke. It was mesmerizing. It drew him in and before he knew it, he was all but stripping to distract any number of creatures. It was like Stiles had an aversion to him wearing clothes.

Sitting in his Camaro, he flipped through the radio stations, skipping the country, the news and pausing when he heard a guitar riff.

_Your cruel device,_  
 _Your blood like ice._  
 _One look could kill,_  
 _My pain, your thrill._

Flicking the radio firmly off, he was not about to let a song of all things put ideas in his head.

Skipping forward a few weeks, the latest monster of the week had run off, and he was left with a bored Stiles trying to find something to do in the loft. He'd already lamented at the lack of anything to do. No TV. No game station. Not even a board game. There were books, and Stiles' homework. 

Growling under his breath as Stilinski turned on the radio, he heard a familiar song.

_I wanna love you, but I better not touch (don't touch)_  
 _I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop_  
 _I wanna kiss you, but I want it too much (too much)_  
 _I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison_

Throwing a knife from his boot, the radio exploded in a shower of sparks. 

What the fuck was with the DJs these days? That song was well past it's prime. He was NOT going to listen to it. Especially as that song came on whenever he thought about the thin line of Stiles' lips, and how they'd plump if kissed fiercely. 

Not that he'd ever admit he thought about such things in the first place.

***

They'd gone under cover to oust a nest of vampires operating out of a theme bar. Of course that theme HAD to be bondage. Somehow, he'd managed to be talked into wearing the cuffs, the collar and the vest, and Stiles was holding the other end of the leash, in the assless chaps with the whip. They'd taken down the vamps, blood in tact, and Stiles was looking particularly delectable with the flush of excitement pinking his cheeks.

All. Four. Of. Them.

_You're poison runnin' through my veins_  
 _You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains._

His hand darted out to turn off the radio as soon as the car turned on. What was with that damn song following him around?!?

***

He'd listened as Stiles paced around the loft, obsessively touching things, waxing poetic about Malia and how she was all things awesome. Hearing the song from the neighbour's, he'd grimaced.

_Your mouth, so hot_  
 _Your web, I'm caught_  
 _Your skin, so wet_  
 _Black lace on sweat_

"If she's so fantastic why don't you just ask her out!"

He'd snarled that like a challenge. He'd lost his cool, and Stiles was caught like a deer in the headlights. Storming out of the loft, he'd punched a chunk out of the wall on his way to the staircase. Realizing halfway down that he'd chased himself out of HIS OWN loft. Snarling under his breath, he made his way to the parking lot, and didn't bother with the radio.

_I hear you callin' and it's needles and pins (and pins)_  
 _I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name_  
 _Don't wanna touch you, but you're under my skin (deep in)_  
 _I wanna kiss you, but your lips are venomous poison_

_You're poison runnin through my veins_  
 _You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains_  
 _Poison_

Punching the radio hard enough to crack plastic, he tore off through the night.

_One look (one look), could kill (could kill),_  
 _My pain, your thrill._

***

One half baked pseudo-relationship with Malia later, Stiles was back to brooding on his couch, in his new loft, because he'd abandoned the other one after he'd let himself chase himself out of his own place to live. It was an expensive expensive point of pride.

Looking over at Stiles as he drank down a bottle of Jack, and sucked back a pint of ice cream, he bit the inside of his mouth and he let the human try and save face, but still somehow cry into his shoulder. He was doing EVERYTHING in his power to be the grown up here.

_I wanna love you, but I better not touch (don't touch)_  
 _I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop_  
 _I wanna kiss you, but I want it too much (too much)_  
 _I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison_

_You're poison runnin through my veins_  
 _You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains_  
 _Poison_

He was seriously going to find the radio DJ and kill him or her.

"Stiles."

_I wanna love you, but I better not touch (don't touch)_  
 _I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop_

"What? Am I fucking up your life too. Just throw me out then! Everyone else does."

Growling.

"Fuck it."

Pinning Stiles to the couch, he pressed a harsh kiss to the younger man's lips, taking in the taste of tears, bourbon, and ice cream and swallowing them down.

_I wanna kiss you, but I wanna too much (too much)_  
 _I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison_

"What was that?"

"Stiles."

He pressed another kiss, this one was hungrily returned.

_Yeah_  
 _Well I don't wanna break these chains_  
 _Poison_

"Just shut up."

_Runnin deep inside my veins_  
 _Burnin deep inside my veins_  
 _Poison_  
 _I don't wanna break these chains_

Pulling Stiles tight, he nuzzled into Stiles' neck muttering, "You're gonna be the end of me."

**Author's Note:**

> This is also called Poison (I) because I'm working another Song Fic, also called Poison, but by a totally different artist. If you're on Twitter, I'm just getting up and running with it @BlaiddDrwg1982. Follow me I'll follow you. :-) As I get more into it, I'll post updates there as well. Especially if there are delays (or new projects)


End file.
